Old Knudsens Alter Ego # 4

Yep, I really am Manuel at times. But you knew that already, right?

I've always wanted to be a waiter believe it or not. My greatest ever claim to fame was my alter ego as Manuel the waiter. Ever since being a small child gazing up as the God like men in the little ghey aprons filled up our glasses with snooty contempt and made us wait for our food as long as they wanted, that was true power. My mother would say to me, "Hey you, thingy, stop staring at the waiters, they're all gheyers you know, unless yer a gheyer of course" which would cause all my siblings and my father to laugh and call me gheyer for the rest of the afternoon, ah happy days.

I've only ever played at being a waiter in MI6 when I posed as one to poison a Russian diplomat or when MJ the lezzer cums round and we play a role playing sex game, "How about I serve you and I give you the tip madam?" "How rude, let me speak to the manager" she'd say in pretend outrage, " Here he is" as I unzipped my trousers, "Dick the manager, time to manage dick if you can handle it, if yer not full up you soon will be." Then I'd give her, her just deserts........ in the arse, just how she likes it.

My waiting dream has cum true, eat yer black cold hearts out....

You've heard of those restaurants that serve sashimi, sushi or whale from the body of a woman, well Billy's Burgers in Killamory has gone upscale and has not only put in more seats and fixed the toilets but is doing that naked thing also.

You would think it was a sexy thing to do but here is the grim reality of it all.

One of the gurls, or platters as we call them, was on her period and one of the customers complained his steak was rare not well done, as soon as we realised that Mags the platter was on her moons we both saw the funny side and he happily ate his steak.

Its hard to get hot young gurls to work naked for $3.50 an hour so some of our platters are shall we say, big boned? Ok then, some of our gurls are big meaty wagons but we worked this to our advantage by filling up their belly buttons with ketchup so as they lie on the table you dip yer french fucking fries into them and the beauty is they fill them up themselves.

I had a customer the other night who said, " there is a pube in my burger" so I said "what do ya want me to do about it?" and he replied " nothing I'm just telling everyone it's fucking class man."
It was class cos his platter was the extremely hot Elena who gets more than $3.50 an hour from the owner.

Some of the Scallyfornia gurls need to work on their fucking manners but they aren't as bad as the hoors from Fresno, the only good thing in Fresno is the number of VD clinics there are there but you could always do with more.

We have Tracy from Canada who we have had nothing but trouble with, we have told her not to smoke when she is lying on the tables as people feed off her naked body, at least wait until they light up (fuck the no smoking laws) also stop farting too, when she gets up there is always a big wet patch and you have to scrub her table down and air it out before you can use it again.

The only reason we don't fire her is because her arse is nice and deep and perfect for the hot fudge sundaes.

I salute some weemen because in the mornings my gag reflex is at ultra sensitive. I've been known to walk down a street, choke and puke in the early mornings, how ghey men take my 12 inches of man meat without choking is beyond me. One of the many reasons I didn't advance far in military ranks is because I kept being sick in the Oirish stew I was preparing.

Breakfast is tough when its early, I reckon I'm no a morning person, just say hello to me and find out.

I once killed a man for saying a cheery "good morning" as I stomped him to death I shouted "whats so go about it huh? huh?" it was during a job interview and I never got it even though I wore a fucking tie.

I had this thing about eggs. I love eggs and I love chicken in fact I lived with a hen as my common law wife once, the divorce was messy but tasty

For a long time In the mornings I couldn't eat eggs because I'd imagine them cumming out of the chicken's bum as I ate and so I would gag. I don't need an anatomy lesson as to where eggs cum out its their bum and that's that.

I've over that now, well I cringe when shell gets into my fried egg when I break it. Which is funny as I have ate things that fell on the floor no probs if only my psychiatrist didn't have that restraining order against me, ah well that's what a blog is for.

Predator On The Run

A shallow debaser, a ghey fool amongst fools, a shadow searching for the sun before I can exist. America hates me, I hate me, everyone hates me. It sucks being a Knudsen, just ask my mom., An outcast, a mongrel, a trash monkey, a jizz hound. I eat, speak and mix pure crap. Lounge lizards look down upon me, I am homosexual and proud, I am the world famous Old Knudsen thrown out of the, United States

Special Thanks

My special thanks to the Port Authority, Ellis Island, NYPD, Philip Morris, Colonel Sanders, Gilligan and the Skipper, the guy who invented ghey pornography, the hairy legged washed up B movie star who lives upstairs, and of course his royal highness Pope John-Paul III. No thanks however to Uncle Sam and all those assholes at City Hall who deported me for the minor offense of molestation in the subway. Thank you to the Romanian / Peruvian/ Australian / British / American / Serbian army for training me in the deadly arts of Special Farces, self-rimming and making me a deadly keeler. Thank you to Barry's Tea, Tayto crisps and Arthur Guinness. A special thanks to my right hand for now being my only companion. I love you too Lefty, but not quite as much. Thank you to MJ for introducing me to hordes of her dried up lesbian pen-pals and the smell of her gas. I now have more stored gas fragrances than Estee Lauder. But most of all, thank you to me. Without Knudsen the world would be shittier than a Harlem crapper after a half eaten bucket of greasy fried chicken. Duller than a blog dedicated purely to kittens and horses. Worse than the Beatles animated car-tune movie, and lastly, more lonely than an ageing female Canadian blogger.